


it feels good

by queerly_yours



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-17 19:59:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4679456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queerly_yours/pseuds/queerly_yours
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the one where jackson goes too far</p>
            </blockquote>





	it feels good

“Come on, Jackson,” Stiles begged. He didn’t mean it. It was cruel, he knew. He shouldn’t have said anything about Jackson’s parents, but he did, and now he had to pay for those actions. The look of hurt in Jackson’s eyes played over and over again in his mind.

“Go home, Stilinski. Fuck off,” Jackson bit. He stormed out of the locker room not thirty seconds after Stiles’ remark, just trying to find some peace. Stiles was such an asshole, he thought. How could he have even thought for one minute that Stiles cared for him?

Stiles didn’t bother shoving the rest of his things into the locker once Jackson ran off. He was half dressed in a lacrosse uniform, and he knew he smelled like five day old sweat, but he had to catch up to Jackson.

He stepped in front of Jackson just as he got to his Porsche. “Jax, I’m sorry. Please,” he begged, eyes pleading. “I’m sorry.”

Jackson grabbed the front of Stiles jersey, pulling him in so close that each individual shade of amber in his eyes were visible, each mole clearly displayed, every exhale pushed warm breath over Jackson’s mouth.

Jackson stared at Stiles’s mouth and breathed, “You push me, Stiles. You’re a dick to me when other people are around, and I-I get it, “ he stuttered. “I wouldn’t-”

“Wait, what?” Stiles interrupted. His brows were drawn in confusion. “I am not a dick-well, I mean I am, but I…” he trailed off, not quite sure of where this was going or what Jackson wanted from him. “I thought that we agreed to be assholes to each other until we were ready to tell the pack?” 

It was more of a question than a statement.

Jackson nodded, looking only at Stiles mouth for fear of a breakdown at the look of hurt in those amber eyes.

Stiles reached up, cupping Jackson’s face in his hands, forcing him to look into his eyes. “I’m sorry, Jackson,” he said with sincerity, gazing straight into the cool blue of Jackson’s eyes.

Jackson nodded and leaned his head in, pressing his forehead to Stiles’. He reached up with his right hand, cupping Stiles’ throat with his hand, a fond gesture from the first time they kissed.

They poked fun at one another, picked fights, and all but killed each other a few times. Jackson insisted that he didn’t mean to punch Stiles, but who really knew? They pulled pigtails and mouthed off, but as time went on, the poking turned into backwards compliments. Smirks and winks laced with promises. Punching turned to grabbing turned to anchoring.

Stiles knew he was a goner the first time Jackson turned his preternatural blue on him and begged for help without words.

And Jackson knew he was taken the day Stiles accepted his hand on his neck without shrinking away.

There were always going to be fights between them, and they knew it. Somehow it didn’t matter as long as they remembered that they loved each other.

Not that either were ready to admit it.

But the day that Jackson forgave Stiles was the day he realized.

They  _both_  knew it though.

They loved each other.

It would take them 63 days more to admit it to one another.

But, god, it felt so good.


End file.
